The Third
by WhosSeenJezebel
Summary: With what could be the largest body count they have ever seen, the BAU is on a race against the clock to catch a serial killer who believes to be the reincarnation of one of history's most ruthless killers. WARNING: Dark Imagery! H/P Established. (Please read A/N)
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a Casefic. And though Molly is not featured in this story, I'm keeping it in the same universe just to keep everything streamlined for now. You do not need to read either of my other stories to follow this one. There might be some minor** **references here and there, but nothing that is** **pertinent** **to the story.**

 **All you need to know is that Molly is Emily's sister-in-law who use to work for the CIA. She's currently recovering at Ambassador Prentiss' home after a group of traumatic events. I'm only telling you this in case I decide to fork off into a future storyline I was thinking of. For now, I'm taking a break from actually writing Molly into the story itself though!**

 **On to** **this story: I'm setting this in a fictional town in Iowa. So if there are an Iowans reading this, please know that I am quite aware that there is no such place in your state!**

 **Anyway** **...I own nothing.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **/\\\\\/**

"Ugh gross!" Cameron groaned, lifting his foot to shake it.

"What? You've never gotten a little mud on your boots?" Logan teased, mimicking a high-pitched whine.

Cam shot a glare at the taller boy. "Not on _these_ I haven't." He snarled, grateful that it was dark enough to hide his pout as he looked back down. He wrinkled his nose when another breeze blew by. "God, it smells like ass up here."

"Mr. Garber has a few animal traps up the mountain. It's probably a deer carcass or something. Come on." Logan was already moving again.

They had been walking down the long winding driveway for nearly two hours. While riding their bikes home from football practice, the two high school sophomores caught a glimpse of a rusted Ford Pickup pulling onto the overgrown road that led up to Perrigrew Boulevard.

No one was allowed up there.

Even the Mayor steered clear of the deserted community.

"Dude, maybe we should just call the cops." Cameron groaned leaning forward as the climb became steeper. They had ditched their bikes about a mile back, given that they couldn't ride them all the way uphill.

"No, that's a waste of time!" Logan chuckled snatching a loose rock up from the ground and tossing it back at his friend. "Besides, we're almost there! I can see the gate!"

Ahead against the dark blue sky, the cast iron fence that surrounded the once thriving community of Buxton's wealthiest. In the late 1950's, when the coal mines finally collapsed, the mansions in the large circle emptied out one-by-one until there was no one left. The trolley that took people in and out of town sat abandoned on the wire halfway down the hill, it's green and gold paint had long since chipped and faded.

The mud beneath Cameron's feet had him stumbling again. He growled as he fell forward and caught himself with his hands. "Son of a bitch." He righted himself and rubbed his palms against his t-shirt. "The snow melted weeks ago! Why is it still wet?"

His question went unanswered. It had been rhetorical anyways, but Logan always had a smartass comment, so his silence was weird.

The grime was still caked between his fingers as he looked up at the gate. When they drew closer, Cam squinted up at the top of it. "What are those?"

Again, Logan didn't reply. His eyes widened and he backed up a few paces until his back slammed into his friend's front. He turned to the shorter teen and began to say something, but froze at the sight of Cam's shirt. "What the hell?" He shouted, shoving him away out of instinct and fear.

Still tired from their afternoon of practice followed by a steep climb, Cameron's legs flew out from under him and he landed flat on his rear, sliding back a few feet in the mud. "Oh, come on!" He grumbled. "My mom's going to kill me if I come home covered in this...this..."

He paused, lifting his hands up and staring at the new clay caked on his hands and arms. In the moonlight, he could see that what the dark revealed as light brown was actually closer to red when illuminated. In fact, it _was_ red. It was really, _really_ red.

"Oh man..." Cameron scrambled to his feet, not even noticing that Logan had taken off down the hill. He simply stared at his hands and clothes, trying to figure out what kind of mud he was standing in. In there parts, the only dirt that wasn't brown was on the baseball diamond behind the high school.

With another groan of disgust, he glared up at the fence of the neighborhood, intending to hurl a few insults its way-because he liked having something to blame. He stopped when the clouds overhead cleared away entirely.

And when it was light as it possibly could be, he let out s shriek and backed up until he collided with a large tree base. His eyes connected with those of the man forty feet above the ground with the sharp point of the speared railhead stuck up through his stomach and blood poured his body and trickled down the rusted iron until it found the cold ground.

Two feet away, on the next railhead, was another man. And two feet away from him was a woman. And then two more men, then...maybe a woman? The further they went, the less he could make out. But there were bodies on every single post that he could see. Some old and some new.

For some reason, blood was still pouring down from each of them. It formed a tiny waterfall down the hill they'd just climbed and soaked into the earth.

Cameron whimpered and looked down at his new shoes, covered in dirt and blood.

/\\\\\/\\\\\

Garcia made a point of keeping her back to the wall with the monitor on it as she pulled the photos up. Seeing them early that morning was enough for her. She didn't need to review them further.

"Buxton, Iowa." She bit her tongue to keep herself from greeting the agents as flamboyantly as she normally would. With a case like this, it was best to remain somber. "As of this morning, over ninety bodies were around an abandoned subdivision on the outskirts of town."

Reid leaned forward in his seat and flipped through the photographs in his paper file. "Men and women, all between the ages of sixteen and seventy-seven." He muttered. "Various races, religions, and socioeconomic backgrounds."

"And each method of killing and mutilation is the same." Derek added on. "No excessive violence on any specific group. It's precise and brutal every time."

"So there's no pattern and no underlying goal." Hotch surmised.

"This is a very small town." Emily said. "Less than five thousand. So these must not be locals, otherwise they would have noticed nearly a hundred of their own citizens missing."

"The local PD are doing their best to I.D. all of the bodies, but they're refusing to enter the gates of the division." Garcia let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead. She had been on the phone with Buxton's Police Chief for nearly an hour, insisting that he make sure that the _entire_ perimeter of the neighborhood was swept for more victims. But the terrified man had refused.

JJ looked up from her tablet and tilted her head. "Why won't they go in?"

"Superstition I guess." Penelope shrugged. "And I can assure you, I tried my diddly-darndest to convince Chief Scaredy Pants to get his men inside, but it just ain't happenin'."

"Great, so if there are any more bodies they would have had a couple of more days to decompose." Morgan pointed out. "Making it that much harder to identify them when found."

"All the more reason to hurry. Garcia, we'll need you with us. With this many victims, it's best to have you nearby with tracking down their families and last known whereabouts." Hotch muttered, flipping his file closed and standing up. "Wheels up in twenty."


	2. Și Apoi Un Erou Vine

" **The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent, but if we can come to terms with this indifference, then our existence as a species can have genuine meaning. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light."**  
 **― Stanley Kubrick**

 **/\\\\\/\\\\\**

Emily placed her tablet on the table between them so that he could look at the photos as he briefed the team. His area was filled with papers and files with information pertaining to the many victims, so he was unable to retrieve his own device from his bag.

"What can we tell from the victimology?" He asked his team, handing Prentiss the stack of photos that she'd requested to see when he was done with them.

"The latest update told us there were ninety-four bodies total." Reid said from his spot across the aisle. He too had taken up the whole table with a large map and his notes. "Fifty-six men and thirty-eight women. More than half of the bodies had some form of identification on them, which gives as an approximate region as to where they're from."

He gestured to the North American map, which had been marked all over with his red marker.

"They're from all over." JJ pointed out. "Florida, Texas, Nebraska, Vermont...there isn't any kind of pattern here."

Spencer held up a finger and stood up so that he could reach the notebook sitting in front of Rossi. "Yes...that's true. But hopefully when we get a timeline for who went missing when, we'll know what path the Unsub took to collect them."

"The fact that he left their ID's on them, says that he doesn't care about them being tracked down." Morgan decided to take another path while the young genius continued working on his Geographic Profiling. "He didn't alter their appearance in order to make them unrecognizable and he kept them in what appears to be their own clothing."

"So there's no personal motive?" Dave asked.

"Isn't it always personal for them?" Penelope asked Morgan quietly, tapping her fuzzy pen against the top corner of her laptop. "I mean, why else would they do it?"

"Sometimes, there are Unsubs who just want to kill." Derek explained gently, not wanting to scare the already skittish analyst. "If it's a Disorganized Offender, then they kill when they can with whatever they can find."

"But I don't think that's the case here." Emily interjected. "These people were all killed the exact same way. And this area is isolated; they didn't all wander up there by chance."

Hotch took in the little information they had as his eyes flicked about the files and photographs. "Until we know more about the victims, we can't really determine his motive." He reminded them. "Garcia, when we touch down I want you to go to the station and set up. Find everything you can on each victim, JJ, help her with tracking down the families."

The two blondes nodded with their respective "Yes sirs."

"Dave and Reid, you meet with the Police Chief and find out what you can about the subdivision and the town. We need to know who has access to the gates and the surrounding areas." He buckled his seatbelt when he felt the telltale dip of their descent. "Morgan, Prentiss, and I will go to the crime scene and search the inside. Hopefully the victim count will stay where it is."

Though they all shared the same hope, they knew that what lined the gates was only the beginning of what they would find inside.

/

 **Buxton Police Department**

 **Iowa**

"Chief Sanderson?" JJ greeted the tall flaxen-haired man with a friendly smile. "I'm Agent Jareau and this is Penelope Garcia." She gestured to Garcia who was fumbling with her many bags filled with equipment.

She dropped a couple of them so that she could shake the Chief's hand. "Yes. Yes. We spoke this morning." She said cheerfully. She was a little harsh with the gentleman when they last spoke, and she didn't want to come across as the Bitch of the BAU.

"Thank you for getting here so quickly." Sanderson nodded shakily and looked between the two women. "So is it just the two of you...ladies?"

JJ resisted narrowing her eyes at the skepticism shown clearly on his face. Obviously, the FBI wasn't going to send two measly agents out on a case with such a high body count. But if they did, it meant they had sent two agents who could handle it without breaking a sweat.

Clearing her throat, she shook her head and waved a hand towards Rossi and Reid who were just entering the front doors of the station with the rest of Garcia's things. "No, we have Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid setting up here, and SSA's Hotchner, Morgan, and Prentiss heading straight to the crime scene." She said politely before cocking her head ever so slightly to the side. "They need to go ahead and look inside the subdivision. After all, time _is_ of the essence when dealing with a case of this magnitude."

She wasn't normally this snippy with local officials, but nothing irritated her more than a cop who let little things like fears and superstitions get in the way of an investigation. And to top it off, this guy was turning his nose up at two women who _could_ have been his only chance at catching the killer who had taken over their town.

"Where can we set up?" Garcia asked, trying to escape the intensity that was 'Pissed off JJ'. While she normally loved seeing her girl tear down big bad men, she was eager to get started on what was sure to be a whole lot of work.

"Officer Greer will show you to the room we set up for you guys." Sanderson snapped his fingers at the young man sitting in the desk behind them.

The kid jumped from his chair and straightened his belt before nodding his head in the direction he would be taking them. "Can...Can I help you with some of these?" He asked, his voice was still squeaking from the puberty that must have still been progressing after a decade.

Taking pity on him, Penelope smiled and handed him the lightest bag. "Thank you Officer."

JJ took Rossi's load so that he could get started with Sanderson while she and Spencer helped set up.

Dave opened his notebook and scribbled something down as he spoke. "What can you tell me about this neighborhood?"

"Perrigrew?" The Chief led the agent back towards his own office. "It's nothing. It's just a piece of land that we're stuck with."

"Stuck with how?"

"It's family owned. Chester and Beverly Perrigrew came out of nowhere and built it back in the forties. It was supposed to be some sort of mecca for the richest families in Iowa...because they're a rare breed I guess." He let out a snort at his own joke. "When the mine collapsed, everyone left. No one wants to live in an impoverished town. But the Perrigrews still hold the lease on the land."

"They're still alive?" Rossi's eyebrows went up. He moved aside as Spencer entered through the doorway behind him.

Sanderson shook his head. "Nah, they died in the seventies. Their daughter inherited their entire estate, including the five square miles up on top of that hill." He jerked his thumb towards the window. "She's never been to Buxton, so I doubt she even knows what she has. But we can't really do anything with the land without her consent."

"So you're just stuck with it?" Reid shoved his hands in his pockets and wrinkled his nose with fake sympathy.

The Chief shrugged. "Eh, it's out of the way and it's not like we can build anything up there." He muttered. "Why go through all of the hassle when it isn't necessary?"

Rossi nodded his agreement and sat down in a seat across from his desk, feigning aloofness as he continued. "So what reason do you have for not actually going _into_ the subdivision?" He asked, holding up and hand. "Surely, the Perrigrew's wouldn't mind if you walked through the property."

Sanderson closed his mouth and cleared his throat before looking down at his desk blotter. "We uh..." He swallowed. "We just don't go in there." His voice was quiet and shaky.

"That's kind of a cryptic response." Spencer let out a dry chuckle. "What is it haunted or something?" He added a dash of teasing to his tone, knowing full well that these people had suspected that there was something supernatural at play. He just wanted to see if the fear was genuine enough to be discussed with the FBI.

When the Chief shook his head sharply, they were convinced that he would deny the claim. But he surprised them.

"I don't know, maybe!" He almost shouted. Reining it in, he held his fist to his mouth and took a deep breath. "That place is evil. Could be ghosts, could be demons...I don't know. But I sure as hell won't go in there. And neither will my men."

/

Morgan bit back a gag when his shoe landed in yet another puddle of blood. The stuff was streaming down the hill until it reached a small makeshift dam built but the LEO's to keep it from continuing its flow out onto the main road.

The agents understood the reasoning behind this-sheltering the community-but they weren't all too pleased with having to park their SUV at the dam and walk the rest of the way up to the subdivision.

Emily, who had been following both men, was able to avoid getting blood on her boots by stepping-and occasionally _not_ stepping-where they did. She bit back a smirk at Derek's curse from up ahead, and grasped onto the back of Aaron's jacket when he jumped back to avoid the splatter from the younger agent trying to shake the mess off.

"When we catch this guy, he's buying me some new Tommy's!" Morgan muttered. "Before we take him in, we are finding an outlet and he is taking me shopping."

"We're going after an Unsub Derek, not a Sugar Daddy." Prentiss reminded him, throwing a tight smirk to the officers that just came into view.

From their parking place to this point, they had seen what must have been half of the small town's LEOs and their average age was about twenty-five. Most of the young men seemed to still be struggling to grow their first beards.

It would have been funny had they not been on their way to one of the most brutal crime scenes they had ever worked.

A short, portly officer greeted them. Morgan took in his outfit with a concealed grin. The kid obviously had to have his pants hemmed at least three inches and the rest of his uniform taken out twice as much.

"You must be the people from the FBI." The young man took the time to shake each of their hands. "I'm Douggy...I mean...Um...Doug. Officer, um, Officer Ruhl." He ducked his head, embarrassed by the fumbled introduction.

Feeling bad for the flustered rookie, Hotch pretended it didn't happen and got right to the point. "Thank you for meeting us Officer." He said tightly. "What can you tell us?"

"We just got the last body down." Ruhl took a deep breath before turning to lead them over to the gate. Tarps lined path on either side of the road, covering the hordes of victims that had been retrieved. "The gate only goes around the neighborhood, which is only about two square miles. We have men searching the rest of the Perrigrew land. They have a barn down by the river and some storage sheds throughout the woods."

Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes. The perimeters could have been searched the morning before, when they first got the call about the bodies. It was quite obvious that the officers were stalling.

She turned to give Hotch a tired smile. "They saved the best part for us." She mused pulling her hair into a ponytail.

"Morgan, take pictures of the bodies to send to Reid." Aaron kept one eye on Emily as she made her way over to the gate entrance, smirking at her impatient gestures aimed at the timid officer standing out front. "Then meet us inside. It looks like we have quite a few houses to check."

He was catching up to Prentiss just as the kid she had been barking at got the hint and unlocked the deadbolt that held the gate closed.

"You're really going in there?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"Would you rather we not look for the serial killer that can see every inch of your town from here?" Emily asked, waving her hand out over the view.

Seeing her point, the rookie nodded and pulled the rusted doors apart just far enough for the two agents to enter. As soon as they stepped through, he slammed it closed again. "I'll be here when you're done." He assured them when they shot nearly identical glares over each of their shoulders. "Just...playing it safe."

Prentiss rolled her eyes up at Hotch before they started walking towards the eerily quiet neighborhood. "I just keep feeling better and better about this."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

"Amy Caspberry, eighteen, went missing from the public pool by her house in Phoenix three months ago. Gerald Rasmus, forty-nine, was last seen walking his dog in Tallahassee seven _years_ ago." Garcia relayed the list of information she had gathered from the few ID's they'd collected. "Michael McKenzie and his wife Laura were taken from their honeymoon cruise in April of last year. There are no consistencies!"

JJ patted her back sympathetically. "Unfortunately, that might be the pattern." She said with a shrug. "Some serial killers thrive on killing as many people as possible without sticking to a particular victim-type."

Penelope grimaced and continued typing. "Have I mentioned in the last half hour that I _hate_ serial killers?"

"You have, but I never tire of hearing it."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

Derek stifled another gag as he stood from his crouched position over the fifth body he had been photographing. He placed his sunglasses back over his eyes and waved his hand in front of his face.

"How did no one notice the smell?" He asked, turning to Ruhl. "I caught a whiff of it as soon as we got out of the car."

Ruhl shrugged sheepishly and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet-fortunately, they had found a blood free area to stand in. "There are a lot of hunters up here." He told the intimidating agent. "A lot of the kids sneak their dad's guns out and go shooting for sport. I can't tell you how many times we've had to collect raccoon and rabbit corpses off of the high school's football field."

Morgan cringed and stared down at the dead teen that they came to next. He was the youngest victim that had been identified-Blake Norman, 17, from Carson City. His blonde hair appeared to be freshly cut and he was wearing a tux.

"He was on his way to prom." Derek said, saddened by the revelation. At Ruhl's look, he elaborated. "Rented tux, pink cummerbund, and boutonniere. A guy doesn't wear all of that unless he was trying to match the dress of a girl he wanted to get lucky with."

Impressed, the officer nodded and stuck out his lower lip. "Nice catch."

Not wanting to shame the kid by pointing out that it was an obvious assumption; Derek snapped some more pictures as he continued pondering aloud. "So the question is, was he taken on his way _to_ or _from_ the dance?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does if his date was with him." Morgan kept the normal bite out of his tone. The rookie wasn't questioning his methods, he was simply curious. "If she was taken, then her body would be one of these..."

"There weren't any teen girls in pink dresses." Ruhl recalled, proud that he was able to remember, but sickened with the idea that all of these bodies were engrained in his mind.

"Okay, then they might recover something while looking inside." Derek pointed towards the neighborhood. " _Or_ he left her behind. Meaning we might have a witness."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

Hotch stuck close to Prentiss. It wasn't that he didn't think she was capable of handling herself in the event of an emergency, he just didn't want them getting separated in the labyrinth of a neighborhood.

She didn't seem to mind either way. In fact, every time they rounded a corner or stepped into a house, she would place her hand on his lower back or shoulder. When they were alone together, she was a little more liberal when it came to physical interaction.

"Ugh..." She grunted when Aaron shoved open the large oak door of the third home they were searching. A cloud of dust hit the two agents and they had to step back and control their coughs before continuing.

These mansions had been sitting abandoned for over half a century. It was obvious that the maid service stopped as soon as the homeowners evacuated.

"Maybe we should have grabbed some masks on our way out here." Hotch mused, knocking some cobwebs out of the doorway with his flashlight before whipping it around to illuminate the dark foyer.

Same as the last few manors. Marble floors, grand staircase, a few chandeliers hanging about, and dust. Layers and layers of dust.

Emily grabbed his arm before he could make his way up the stairs. "Maybe we should stick to the lower levels of this one." She suggested, pointing towards the dining room to their left where the roof had caved in, bringing down a toilet and tub with it.

Hotch's eyes went from the rubble to the rest of the roof. There was some notable swelling in the corners and water stains in the center. It could collapse at any moment. "It would probably be best to hold off on this one altogether." He said quietly. "There are at least fifty other houses here. If we don't find anything in those, we might attempt to bulldoze this one."

Giving her a tight smile, he gestured for her to follow him back towards the front door. As soon as he touched the handle, the heavy oak broke free from the loose hinges it had been resting on for so long. Aaron cursed and yanked Emily back to avoid being crushed underneath the heavy object.

The door slammed into the hard marble, creating not only another explosion of dust but a resounding SLAM. Less than a second after that, a crackling came from overhead.

"Okay, out, _out_." Hotch grabbed her arms and practically lifted her up and over the threshold just as the ground shook beneath them and more crashes came from the foyer they had just been standing in.

The sheer force of the crash, knocked the two agents from their feet, sending them from the top step of the wrap around porch to the hard gravel of the walkway. A wall of dust and debris surrounded them as small fragments of the collapsing mansion nearly buried their stunned bodies.

Snapping out of it first, Aaron pulled himself up and grabbed Emily's arms, pulling her along frantically until they were out of harm's way. When he felt the dead grass of the lawn underneath his palm, he stopped moving and tugged Prentiss to sit between his legs as they watched the end of the show.

It had probably was one of the smaller homes on the street-which wasn't saying much, given that it was still about thirty thousand square feet-but it took nearly five minutes to finish caving in on itself. The white pillars that had lined the front, snapped like toothpicks and the crystal chandelier hanging from the vaulted roof of the porch shattered when it finally fell. Emily yanked her foot back when a broken shard flew towards it.

Finally, when all was silent again, Aaron let out a breath and let his arms relax around her waist. He hadn't realized how tightly he had been holding her. "You okay?" He murmured into her ear, letting his fingertips graze the scrape she'd acquired on her arm from landing on the gravel. "You didn't hit your head did you?"

She shook her head and patted his hand. "No...No I didn't." She swallowed. "I'm fine. Just a little sore. After all, my very heavy Unit Chief just landed on top of me." She kept her tone light, letting him know that he hadn't actually hurt her in the fall.

Smirking, Hotch let himself kiss the side of her head before climbing up on his still shaking legs. "Well Agent Prentiss." He faked an exaggerated groan as he pulled her to her feet. "I was only trying to protect one of my best assets."

" _Assets_?" Emily winked as she said the first syllable. "Gee, I didn't know you were such a romantic sir." She scoffed and began wandering over to the wreckage.

"Well, it's always nice to keep things...fresh..." He trailed off when they simultaneously caught sight of the same thing. "I'll call Derek." He sighed, pulling out his phone.

Emily nodded wordlessly as she stared out at the multiple sets of arms and legs sticking out of the rubble.

/\\\\\/\\\\\

Rossi had been grilling Sanderson for nearly forty-five minutes. Asking him the same questions, only with different phraseology, hoping to trick an answer from him. It wasn't that he thought that the Chief was being dishonest with him. He just felt like there were some answers that he was dodging quicker than others.

"So you haven't noticed anyone new in town?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, not even to bothering to hide his irritation at this point. "No red flags?"

Sanderson shrugged and shook his head. "No. Nothing. Nobody." His robotic answer matched all of the other ones. "This is a small, poor town Agent Rossi. No one just _moves_ here."

"Sorry to interrupt." JJ's voice came from the doorway, startling Reid who had been dozing from his place on top of the small bookshelf right next to the entrance. "But Hotch needs us at the scene. Now."

Dave practically leapt from the chair that had developed a nice imprint of his ass in the fake leather. "Let's not keep him waiting." He grabbed Spencer's collar and yanked him up and out behind him. "I'll drive."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

The Belmont Manor was nothing but rocks and dust.

His feral growl scared the weak link currently curled up in the tub. He ignored her whimpers and cries. She wasn't worth a second thought at the moment.

"Scum." He snarled, leaning in closer to the wooden slats that looked out over Perrigrew. The dark haired couple in matching blue jackets approached the damage they had caused. They had found more of his disposals. They were bending to examine the bodies of the unfaithful garbage, as though they meant something to the world. "Worthless scum."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

Morgan heard them before he saw them.

Spencer was spouting off facts about blood and decomp, JJ was groaning with every breeze that hit, and Rossi was complaining about the climb.

Leaving Ruhl to take the rest of the photos-he had given him Penelope's e-mail address so that they could be sent to her right away-Derek approached the rest of his team with arms outstretched. "Welcome to the party." He said dryly.

"I'm starting to wonder why I was so eager to leave the station." Dave huffed, leaning over to place his hands on his knees. "No one told me we were going for a hike."

"It was only about a twenty degree incline." Reid informed him. "The mountain in Canada was twice as steep and much higher up. We climbed that in half the time."

"No you did." Rossi said. "I timed out about halfway up in case you've forgotten."

JJ ignored their bickering and stared out across the bodies. "God, you don't realize how much ninety-four is until you see it in person." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She wasn't unfamiliar with the feeling of walking onto a crime scene. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that the pictures ever did the horror any justice. But in no way was she used to seeing the horror up close and personal.

Feeling bad for the younger agent, Derek patted her shoulder before reminding her of the reason they were called over. "Well, we're about to see what it looks like to break a hundred." He nodded towards the gate. "Come on, I'll lead."

/\\\\\/\\\\\

They snapped on their gloves and walked on top of the concrete and marble pieces cautiously. Of course, they were always hesitant to disturb a crime scene, but given that the entire house caved in, they figured that ship had sailed.

"Another male." Emily winced after moving the beam off of the deceased gentleman dressed in overalls. "Throat slit."

Of the four bodies they'd uncovered thus far, the M.O had remained consistent. Prentiss placed a twist marked an 'X' on the hand with one of the pens Hotch had been carrying in his pocket. It was the only way they could mark who had already been examined.

"We leave you two alone for five minutes..." Rossi called out as the foursome approached the lot. "See, this is why we can't have nice things."

Ignoring the older man's comments, Hotch motioned for him and Derek to come take their places. "JJ, did you bring the first aid kit?" He asked, hopping off of the pile of rubble before immediately turning to help Prentiss down.

The blonde held the red bag up. "Yeah, you guys okay?" Her brows furrowed when she got a closer look at Emily's arm.

"Just a few scrapes." Prentiss waved her and Reid off when they reached out to examine her. "And maybe a bruised rib or two from our not so soft landing." She elbowed Hotch in the side teasingly.

Their stern leader was not amused as he unzipped the bag and pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a handful of gauze. "We just need to be careful when searching the homes." He told them, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard by Rossi and Morgan. "They're old and apparently poorly made."

"I'll say." Spencer scoffed, bending down to examine the fractured frame of the house. "It appears that they were going for the Palladian Style on the outside but used the interior structure of Adirondack Architecture. It's a miracle they've stayed upright this long."

As usual, the group remained unfazed by the young man's knowledge of a seemingly random subject.

Emily hissed when Hotch pressed the peroxide soaked wad of gauze against her arm, but gave him a tight smile when he muttered an apology. "This would all be much simpler if we could get the locals in here to help." She said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, Ruhl was calling a coroner from two towns over to come over and collect these." Morgan pointed to the young woman sticking out of the edge of the pile. He was about to start into another rant about the cowardly LEO's when something on the body caught his eye. "Oh...You have got to be kidding me."

Prentiss pulled her arm away so that she could run over to see what had the agent so angry. Rather than scold her, Hotch followed-gauze still in hand-knowing that whatever it was had to bad if Morgan was seething within a matter of seconds.

"Wow." Rossi dropped into a squat and helped Derek move a few rocks from the woman. "You don't see that a lot."

Reid climbed up between Emily and JJ, both of whom were covering their mouths in shock. "He cut off her breasts!" He said it with more interest than alarm. When the team shot him their individual looks of indignation, he held up his notebook. "Something about the other bodies had me thinking. The way they were placed on the fence tops was similar to a technique used in South East and Central Europe during the fifteenth century."

He flipped through the pages, until a few clippings popped out. "But the removal of the breasts was something started by Vlad the Impaler." He continued, handing the printouts to Hotch. "He would cut them off and force their husbands to eat them."

Prentiss and JJ exchanged looks of disgust.

"Kid, you're not saying that our Unsub is copying Dracula himself?" Morgan removed his sunglasses as he read over Hotch's shoulder.

"Well, not Dracula." Reid wrinkled his nose. "He was from the house of Drăculești, but he was never vampiric. The legend of Dracula stemmed from his cruelties, but it was never proven that he actually drank the blood of his victims."

"Reid." Hotch cut him off before he went into a full-blown lecture.

"Sorry." Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm not saying he's copying Vlad per say, but his methods so far are quite similar."

JJ shook her head and backed away from the body they'd surrounded. "So we possibly have a sadist who is using another sadist for inspiration." She surmised. "Wonderful."

"That would explain the body count." Derek hated to go down Reid's path. He really wanted the kid to be wrong for once. "Vlad the Impaler was recorded to have thousands of victims."

"We won't let our Unsub reach that." Hotch said, his jaw set with determination.

"That's saying he hasn't gotten that many already." Rossi added warily.

/\\\\\/\\\\\

"Please. Please let me go!" The woman whimpered, tugging at the chains that held her in place.

He turned from the window and raked his eyes over her eagerly. His time was limited, but she wasn't ready yet. "You need to finish what you started." He snarled, closing the slats, shrouding them in darkness once more. Tossing a few slices of stale bread onto her chest, he strode out of the small room. "I'll be back in the morning." He called over his shoulder.

"No! Please!" She cried, pulling against the railing. "I need to get home! Let me go! LET ME GO!"


End file.
